Until We're Safe and Sound
by ScarletDeva
Summary: The last battle comes and in the aftermath Hermione is left to pick up the pieces... but she's not completely alone. Set to Sheryl Crow's "Safe and Sound"


**Until We're Safe and Sound****: ****Left Alone and Bound Together**

By: ScarletDeva

Disclaimer: I do not own Draco. I do not own Hermione. I don't own the song. I lay claim to the plot but that doesn't really make any money so… yeah.

Author's Note: Inspired by a thread of conversation on the Draco_and_Hermione yahoo group. You guys rock! Or suck – depending on how I feel at the moment about writing this thing… LOL. Huge thanks to Sheryl Crow for singing "Safe and Sound."  This is all Herm's POV and I tried to do a sort of character analysis. Tell me it didn't suck?

Dedicated to: Draco_and_Hermione yahoo group people. Also Megs, for angstifying me. LOL. Oh and thanks to Dwight who was up and listening to me rant about… well stuff… it being 6am-ish I just don't remember… Oh and huge, enormous giganto thanks to May for reading this at 630am.

__DM&HG_DM&HG_DM&HG_DM&HG_DM&HG_DM&HG_DM&HG__

Hermione Granger stood in the middle of what used to be the Dark Lord's throne room.  Now it was just a large room, generously decorated in blood and twisted corpses.  Her eyes were rounded and glazed as she stared forward absently, unheeding of Harry's broken body draped around Voldemort's, or Ron slumped near a wall where he died protecting Hannah Abbott.  She took no notice of Seamus, who was curled around Susan Bones, or Lavender, who died alone and took three Death Eaters with her as she triumphantly shouted Harry's name.  She did not care to look at Professor McGonagall, whose cold body still bled from the dagger wound that was inflicted by one of her former students.  She deliberately ignored Professor Snape, who was virtually unrecognizable as his battle with Lucius Malfoy killed them both and maimed them as well, as if it was not enough to rob the combatants of every spark of life but of their dignity as well.  But dignity did not matter in this hour.  Ripped robes, disheveled hair, blood and soot everywhere and Hermione could not breathe.  She knew she had to contact the Ministry so that they could send medi-wizards for those who still held on to the remnants of life, but she could not move, could not let loose the screams that banged inside her head.  And then she saw him.

_Maybe this is forever  
Forever fades away  
Like a rocket ascending into space_

Draco Malfoy stood across the room, just as frozen, platinum-blond hair sticking out every which way, pale cheeks smudged with blood and molten gray eyes glazed with a shock that matched hers.  They locked gazes and all of a sudden the air seemed to rush out of her lungs in a fury, followed by a chocking sob.  He was the last of her comrades still standing, the last that she was sure would remain standing and at that moment she would sell her soul to the devil she did not believe in to ensure that this would be so, for she would rather be dead as well – oh she'd rather be dead anyway – but being alone would be worse.  Hermione took a step forward and he suddenly crumpled to the floor.

_Could you not be sad?  
Could you not break down?_

She was across the room in a heartbeat, stepping over the bodies nimbly as if they were no more real than all her fantasies of a happy ending, and she crouched down, shedding her robes to obtain further mobility as she crushed him in a desperate embrace.  They never got along, not even after he announced that he was choosing to fight against the Dark Lord.  They butted heads on strategy and argued over the tiniest details, often staying until the sun rose and shone into the window of the small Strategy Room.  She often wanted to smash his nose in, but at that moment all she could do was wish he'd respond, react, do something, anything to let her know he was alive.  Another sob ripped from her throat and she buried her face in his baby-soft hair.

_After all, I won't let go  
  
_

She began to rock him back and forth and his arms finally came around her waist, his grip on her as tight as her own on him.  She breathed a sigh of relief and then heard him mutter something.  She strained to hear and almost pulled back as she realized that it was her name.  Not Mudblood.  Not know-it-all.  Not Gryff Queen.  Not even Granger.  He said Hermione and then chanted it, her name a litany on his lips, a prayer, a pleading cry.

_Until you're safe and sound  
Until you're safe and sound  
  
_

So she sat there and rocked him, held him to her body as if he was an extension of it, knowing that she could never let go, never let him down, never walk away to a world where no one but him knew what that night was like, what their war had been like.  Draco Malfoy was all she had and he only had her, the one person he could never quite convince of his superiority, the one person he grudgingly respected even while he yelled at her for her soft-hearted strategies and lack of cool logic.  So she sat there, held him and so she began to cry.

_There's beauty in release  
There's no one left to please but you and me  
  
_

That was when he lifted his head from her shoulder and faced her, their noses barely an inch apart, and she saw those same bloody tears that she had began to leak in his eyes, his blasted eyes which looked like molten silver, damned gray eyes, the only eyes that she could possibly look into for the rest of her life.  No other eyes would know who she was at the moment she knew that their side had won and she had lost almost everything, and if they didn't know that, they could never know her.  And she could never look into eyes that did not know her.  She felt his arms let go of her waist and lift to grasp her face firmly in two hands that were dirtied with their enemies' death, tainted with pain, and she leaned her forehead against his and shifted her own grasp to pull him tight against herself.

  
_I don't blame you for quitting  
I know you really tried  
If only you could hang on through the night  
  
_

She never expected any of this, never imagined even in her worst nightmares that she would see friend after friend fall in defense of the world.  She had woken up many a night, breathless with the terror that ate at her over Harry, the Boy-Who-Lived-to-be-Her-Best-Friend, and the one who Voldemort possibly hated the most.  She almost expected to see the light leave his eyes.  And yet, she faced a room where little bits of her heart lay scattered along with the dead who used to hold them.  A few had certainly survived, the ones who had to stay back with injuries from previous battles, Dean Thomas, Blaise Zabini, Padma Patil, one or two others, but they could never understand, could never know what it felt like to focus only on your own fight but unconsciously know that every scream brought you closer to an empty existence, to a world where you were left alone to keep the memories alive.

_Cause__ I don't want to be lonely  
I don't want to be scared   
And all our friends are waiting there  
  
_

Draco Malfoy sighed then, a bit of breath tickling her mouth, and she remembered that she was not alone, not today.  She had him and he had her and she would never let him down, could never let him down without destroying herself.  And as much as she wanted to die, there was a tiny worm of a feeling deep under the debris of pain that beat painfully with the will to survive, the desire to live.  So she would live, and she was determined to see that he too would continue to face day after day, but not alone, oh no, never alone.

_Until you're safe and sound   
Until you're safe and sound   
There's beauty in release   
There's no one left to please but you and me  
  
_

His fingers pressed up against her cheekbones and then let go to twine in her hair, which had come tumbling from the severe knot she pulled it into before gripping her wand and heading into battle.  She shivered and pressed herself closer against him, knowing that she could never allow anyone else to touch her whose skin wasn't sullied with death, whose fingers weren't fouled with pain, whose very pores weren't contaminated with disillusion and loss.  She whimpered and tucked her face into the side of his neck.  His breath whispered over her skin as he leaned his head on hers.

_Until you're safe and sound...__  
  
_

She breathed him in.  He smelled of fire and blood, a tangy metallic scent, and a faint touch of death, but also something underneath it all, something that was simply his…  She often slept with Ron and Harry in the last months before the final attack, as if they had all regressed to childhood and needed each other through the hours when they were most unguarded, and they slept in a small bed tucked into each other, familiar scents intermingling, Ron's chocolate fudge snacks and Harry's vanilla cookies and Hermione's boysenberry shampoo.  He was none of that, tart and smoky and unfamiliar in any conscious way, but she inhaled him again anyway, allowing this stamp of him to envelop her senses.

_Feel like I could hold on  
Feel like I could let go  
Feel like I could help you  
Feel like I could change you  
  
_

_Until you're safe and sound...___

One of his hands drifted out of her hair and skimmed over her back.  She only pressed herself closer and it was his turn to shiver, a tear drop falling into her hair, penetrating to her scalp and suddenly her lips were on his skin, her brief, feverish kisses at his neck born of the same need that drives a man to kiss the ground after months at sea.  She could feel him tense, a slight tilt of his head clearly set on encouraging her actions, his grip on her drawing her closer.

_Feel like I could hold you  
Feel like I could hurt you   
  
_

_Until you're safe and sound...___

She knew that he liked to pretend that he needed no one, even while they all banded closer together as the months of battle dragged on, connected more tightly as a group.  He was careful to stay apart, not involve himself, almost never showing he gave a whit of a damn about any of it, almost never, except for their arguments over strategy.  Yet she also knew that despite the apparent coldness, the shuttered eyes, the constantly controlled posture, the group was all he had, all the family, all the friends, for by the end there was no question that Lucius was on the side of the Dark, and the few Slytherins that braved their side were indeed few in comparison to those who stayed neutral and those who followed the Dark path.  And now the group was mostly gone, bits of his heart struck down just as hers.  She continued dropping dry, little kisses on his skin and felt the tears dropping over the top of her head.

_Feel like I was a stranger   
Feel like I was an angel   
  
_

_Until you're safe and sound...___

She had no idea what they were going to do now, two almost strangers, two people who knew everything there was to know about each other without knowing the details.  They had no plans.  No one made any plans for after; they all joked about it and brushed it off, vowing to start planning at the after-party, almost as if knowing that after, there was only darkness.  She kept her eyes tightly shut as she trailed the kisses up to his ear and took a deep breath before breathing out his name.  Not Ferret boy.  Not Mal-ferret.  Not Slyth King.  Not even Malfoy.  She whispered Draco, just once, simply Draco.

_Feel like I was a hero   
Feel like I was a zero   
  
_

_Until you're safe and sound...___

Maybe this was the only way it could work.  Beneath all the assurances, all the pretty words, she knew Harry was not likely to live past this battle and if Ron had survived then their tight triad would have been ripped, left bleeding from the place where Harry had been.  Had Ron died and Harry lived, he would have forever blamed himself as if he had chosen to trade places, and by extension so would she.  With them both gone, she was simply Hermione, simply a lost, lonely soul with but one choice in companion – Draco Malfoy.  And maybe if it was anyone else, she would not have been able to find the courage to keep breathing nor the inclination to keep the other person's heart beating.  What that meant, she did not know, but she realized, in an almost bitter-sweet manner, that she had a lifetime to figure it out.

_Feel like I could cure you  
Feel like I could heal you  
  
_

_Until you're safe and sound...___

She nudged his head and began to place little kisses over his forehead, tracing lines over the smooth, pale skin, her tongue darting out here and there to lick at the blood marring his almost Greek god visage, tasting the metallic tang with a morbid satisfaction.  He whimpered under her ministrations, and if she was not who she was and if he was not who he was, she might have thought him to be protesting, but she knew he wasn't.  He was asking for more.  He always asked for more, nay, demanded more.  He challenged her, her mind, her ire, her sense of competition and sometimes, just sometimes, she felt like he was daring her to save him.  She always tamped down those urges with a brutality she worked hard to maintain, but not anymore, now she was set on saving him, curing him, bringing him back to life, because in turn he would do the same for her.

_Feel like I could touch you  
Feel like I could save you  
  
_

_Until you're safe and sound...___

One of his hands dug deeper into her hair, trying to press her mouth harder on his skin as his other hand clutched desperately at her shirt, a meaningless gesture in any other man, but in Draco Malfoy that was more emotion than she'd ever witnessed and she felt as if ice and fire were fighting a mythic battle within her skin as the goose bumps chased shivers of overwhelming heat.  Her lips touched at the bridge of his nose, the same feature that she would have gladly broken even a day ago, that aristocratic, marble statue nose that was suddenly more precious that a Gringotts' vault full of soulstones.

_Feel like I should hear you  
Feel like I could move you   
Feel like I could change you   
Feel like I could hold you  
Feel like I could keep you  
Feel like I should tell you   
  
_

She had somehow wound up in his lap and her hands slid into hair, the strands like silk against her skin, and she dropped a final kiss on the tip of his nose and then a tiny lick at the hollow above his upper lip and then her lips met his.  She froze for a moment, the last kiss an act not entirely conscious, and then felt his mouth part and a gentle stream of air hit her lips.  Her fingertips pushed at his skull and their mouths touched again, this time no hesitation on her part as she darted her tongue out and carefully explored his lower lip, memorizing the texture of it, the taste nothing she ever knew before, but before was gone and he was all that was left.  Her tongue slid over the seam of his mouth, seeking entrance that was immediately granted, and encountered his tongue, gently, softly, almost like the touch of a faerie's wings.

_Feel like I could love you   
Feel like I could love you   
Feel like I could love you   
Feel like I could love you  
  
_

The door creaked then, the first of the back-up Auror team venturing into the hall of death.  Hermione simply touched his tongue with her own, this time more forcefully and he responded eagerly.  He was the only one who knew the dark places of her soul now and the swarming teams of medi-wizards and Aurors around them were simply the backdrop to something new being born in this place of destruction.  She nipped at his tongue and he moaned.  Maybe it would be alright, maybe they would never recover, maybe they would heal and maybe they would die tomorrow, but whatever existed on their path after that moment… well it was their path and they would get to it, torn souls hand in hand.

_Feel like I really love you_


End file.
